Thank you, Luna Longbottom, for the headache relief patches you sent me. Recalling the past is much more tiring than I imagined. However, the dried colorful newts you included as a bonus with the package were secretly taken by my youngest son to use in his new invention. I didn't get the chance to experience their, um, magic— I'm truly sorry, dear.

Thank you to Fred Weasley and George Weasley for providing the "Faithful Record" shorthand quill. Without their generous help, I think it would have been next Christmas before I could submit this book to the publisher. Although the reason my previous manuscript was burned was that they sent miniature magical fireworks to my two mischievous sons as Christmas gifts. I find this quill very useful, but it's a bit too faithful. I had to copy the text again to remove those habitual interjections.

This book is dedicated to Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Horace Slughorn, who wrote me at least five letters insisting that he must be mentioned in the foreword. Thank you, Professor Slughorn, for reminding me that I had already mentioned my father in the foreword of the previous book.

——Iris·【Only visible to wizards in detail】

Chapter 16 Summer Holiday and Birthday Gift

"Why on earth is Dad still staying at Hogwarts during the summer vacation?" I asked my mother again while helping her pack, trying my luck when she was busy sorting out clothes. "Tell me, Mum. I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"He's busy with some things that need to be kept secret for the time being." My mother, who had regained her vitality, made the whole ward shine brightly. To make it convenient, she braided her waterfall-like red hair and coiled it at the back of her head. "You'll find out when you go back to school, Liz. I think you'll all scream with excitement—I really wish I were still studying at Hogwarts. But I'm sure I'll get a chance to go back and visit."

Mum wasn't upset about being abruptly transferred to the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She accepted her new job with enthusiasm. In her words, almost everything in this world has two sides, and she chooses to embrace the bright and wonderful parts while remaining vigilant against the darkness and corruption.

The Department of Magical Games and Sports was in a state of chaos. With the Quidditch World Cup approaching day by day, Ludo Bagman was eager for Mum, who was still recuperating at St. Mungo's, to take over the tasks that should have been handled by Bertha Jorkins immediately. Mum asked if I would like to accompany her to the Quidditch World Cup, suggesting it could be a rare vacation. Of course, I agreed right away. It's just a bit of a pity that if Dad hadn't stayed at Hogwarts, busy with that "big thing that definitely can't be told to you kids", this would have been a wonderful family holiday.

"Liz, could you please take these flowers to the office by the door at the end of the corridor? I need to reply to a letter immediately." Mum looked at a piece of paper folded into the shape of an airplane that was desperately squeezing its way in through the door crack. "We can't use owls here. I have to go to the first floor—just take the flowers there. The healer in the office will help me take them."

I went out the door, holding a large bunch of fragrant lilies. I had never wandered around the corridor on the sixth floor before. That's where the seriously ill patients were staying—so ill that sometimes they seemed dangerous. Following my mother's instructions, I walked towards the end of the corridor. When I was just a few steps away from the door, I suddenly felt as if I had been hit hard, and the flowers in my arms scattered all over the floor.

But there was no one in the corridor. I looked around in confusion, and the burning pain in my shoulder reminded me that the impact just now couldn't have been an illusion. Something completely invisible, yet with a physical presence—if it had been before last semester, I might have been completely puzzled, but I happened to know that there was someone who owned an almost perfect Invisibility Cloak.

"Who's there?" I took out my wand from my pocket (even though I knew I might get in trouble for using magic outside of school).

"Miss Iris Snape?"

The voice behind me almost made me jump out of my skin. I stared wide-eyed as Professor Dumbledore appeared by the door at the end of the corridor, and beside him was Neville Longbottom. I suddenly realized who was in the closed ward behind that door—the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness by Death Eaters for refusing to reveal the hiding place of their son. To prevent them from being disturbed by the curious, the Ministry of Magic had always refused to disclose where they were being cared for. Many tabloids speculated that the Longbottoms hadn't actually been saved by Dumbledore in time and that they had long since died.

"Could you explain why you're here?" Dumbledore looked sharply into my eyes, and I had the illusion that he was reading my mind. "I remember your mother's ward isn't on this side."

"Uh, Mum asked me to bring these flowers. She said the healer in the office here would take them," I pointed to the lilies on the floor that I hadn't had a chance to pick up yet. "But as soon as I got here, I was hit by something—"

"Hit by something?" Dumbledore interrupted me very quickly. "What was it?"

"No, I don't know, Professor." I felt a little uneasy. "It was something I couldn't see. It hit me on the shoulder."

"Miss Snape and I heard those words at the same time, Professor," Longbottom said to Dumbledore. "There was no need for her to eavesdrop—"

"Of course. I didn't mean to doubt Miss Snape." Dumbledore's tone became kind again, but his eyes still lingered on the empty corridor behind us for a moment before he looked down at me. "My dear, I think you've guessed who's living here. May I ask you not to tell anyone around you—no matter how close you are?"

"Certainly, Professor." I nodded. "I promise you."

"Flowers, with their beautiful and fresh fragrance." Dumbledore waved his wand, and the lilies on the ground shook off the dust and gracefully flew into Longbottom's arms. They looked even more delicate, as if they had just been cut from the branches. "I think Lily wanted to send them to your mother through the healer. She will surely love them."

"Have a nice vacation, Miss Snape." Professor Dumbledore winked at me behind his half-moon glasses. "And congratulations on your mother's discharge from the hospital."

I went back to the ward and waited for quite a while before Mum came back. She apologized to me, saying that she had met Barty Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic, and had a few words with him, which caused the delay.

"He's probably under a lot of work pressure recently. With the Quidditch World Cup and that other matter, he insists on doing everything himself, but his body can no longer take it." Mum shook her head. "Although many people say—oh, Liz, you must make more friends. Don't always be alone. Have you still been corresponding with Miss Granger recently?"

"Yeah." I nodded, but I decided not to tell her that we had recently been exchanging about a black-covered notebook I had dug out from the basement. Mum doesn't let me touch the things left by Dad from his school days in the basement, but they're actually quite interesting—well, most of the time they're also rather dangerous.

But this notebook isn't dangerous, yet it's extremely difficult to read. It has two parts, the front and the back. On the front, it's scribbled with "Legilimency", and on the back, it only has the word "Occlumency". I've never read anything so abstruse. The two parts together seem like a kind of game, and they're full of theories that I can't understand—Dad seems to be handling it with ease. He takes notes using abbreviations whose original meanings are hard to guess and makes scribbles and corrections all over the place.

I once tried to talk to Draco about the potions notebook left by my dad, but he always seemed uninterested. Hermione is undoubtedly a much better discussion partner than Draco. We can't wait for school to start tomorrow because communicating by owl is so inefficient. Often, just after I send a letter, I get new insights by the evening. We even tried making phone calls, but the communication network between wizards and Muggles is extremely unstable. In short, our progress has been rather limited. By the time she left to visit the Weasleys, we had only barely figured out how the content of this notebook relates to probing into other people's minds and how to deal with such probes.

When Hermione sent me a birthday gift (a whole set of foldable mobile medicine cabinets that can be folded into a small bag. I really love her for that), she told me that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had invited her to go and watch the Quidditch World Cup together, and that Potter and Black would also be going with their parents (I wasn't surprised at all). We might have to wait until school starts to continue our discussion.

I didn't tell anyone that I was going to the Quidditch World Cup with my mother. I cherish the time I get to spend going out with her, even though she's mainly going for work and probably won't be able to stay with me all the time.

I received a huge pile of birthday gifts this year—more than I could ever have imagined. Besides the portable medicine cabinet from Hermione, Longbottom gave me a plant that hasn't bloomed yet. Black and Ron Weasley each gave me a volume of a two-volume set of books (thanking me for my contribution to rescuing Buckbeak). Aunt Petunia gave me a handkerchief, and Mum and Dad bought me a self-cleaning and organizing workbench that I'd been wanting for a long time (it can handle more than 80% of self-repair, including thirty-eight kinds of stains and toxic by-products that are difficult to remove directly with magic. "But don't use it to slack off at school," Dad wrote on the card).

Potter only sent me a letter, and I heaved a huge sigh of relief. His birthday is on the same day as mine. To thank him for his help last semester, I bought him a bottle of universal broom cleaner. I had been worried that he would try to send me some expensive gift again. I was so embarrassed when I returned that hairpin to him, and later, a whole bunch of trouble was caused by the newspaper's false reports.

Iris,

You mentioned before that you needed an owl. This owl is the offspring of the old owl in my family. It has just reached the age when it can fly long distances steadily, and I didn't spend any money on it. My family doesn't need so many owls. Mom and Dad said it would be great if you're willing to take care of it. It's very gentle, but it's a bit of a headache that Hedwig taught it to eat dead mice. My mother named it Vivian, but you can give it another name.

Happy birthday!

The little owl with smooth and shiny feathers squatted quietly by the window, looking at me. When I reached out my hand, it rubbed its head against me affectionately and made a "coo-coo-coo" sound.

The gift Draco gave me was a star-shaped brooch. He said it would match perfectly with the dress robe he gave me at Christmas. I haven't worn that robe yet. I don't know why he's so certain that I'll wear it.

After following my mother to the Quidditch World Cup venue, she started to get busy with the preparations for the event. I was stuck in the tent with nothing to do, and there were all kinds of noises outside that often disturbed me from concentrating (sometimes I think forcing wizards to follow Muggle habits will bring even greater disasters. I'm sure I saw several wizards using the Levitation Charm to bring over several huge metal bottles labeled "gas").

So I asked my mother if I could do something within my ability to help and kill time. After thinking for a while, she asked me to guide the wizards who had just arrived at the camp using Portkeys when Mr. Basil was too busy.

"You're truly Merlin's favorite, just like your mother." Mr. Basil, with bloodshot eyes, looked as if he would collapse and fall asleep on the ground at any moment. "There are people everywhere. I can't believe we sold so many tickets. I mean, our salaries haven't increased—here come more people. Miss Snape, could you hand me that scroll of the list on the ground? The ones starting with 'W'. Let me see. Hmm, and also those starting with 'D'."

There were several crumpled pieces of parchment scattered messily on the ground. I squatted down and searched for a long time before I managed to pull out two crumpled lists. They looked as if they had been roughly crumpled up in great impatience.

"Iris?" I was trying to smooth out the remaining pieces of parchment (it's not wise to use magic outside of school in front of Ministry of Magic staff) when I heard a very excited voice. "My goodness, you didn't tell us you'd be here too!"

Hermione was undoubtedly the most normally dressed among the group of wizards who had just arrived. Even though her hair was all in a mess due to the Portkey journey, with a few strands stuck to the corner of her mouth. She was standing together with Ron and Ginny Weasley. The tall and thin red-haired man must be their father, Mr. Arthur Weasley, who was talking to Mr. Basil. I also saw the Weasley twins looking rather cross – it was quite a rare sight to see such expressions on their faces. Standing beside them were two men. One was about the same age as Mr. Weasley, and the other was much younger, presumably his son. The young man had a face that was hard to ignore in a crowd. I thought that even with just a polite and smiling greeting, he could charm a large group of witches. Then I suddenly had a rough idea of who he was, especially since Mr. Basil had just mentioned "Diggory".

"Is this your daughter? You've been hiding such a charming daughter from us!" Mr. Diggory spoke with a certain air of importance.

"Of course not," Mr. Basil didn't seem to have the energy to be polite with him. He couldn't wait to hand out the keys in his hand and then go back to the tent to sleep soundly. Maybe it wouldn't even matter if he slept through the World Cup. "This is Lily's daughter, Iris Snape. She offered to help when she saw we were swamped with work."

"Cedric Diggory." The good-looking boy politely extended his hand and shook mine. "I know about you. When Professor Slughorn was substituting last semester, he always mentioned your name and was quite sorry that you never attended one of his Slug Club parties in the end."

I tried hard to show a bit of the "I'm really sorry I didn't go" expression, but it seemed I failed, because Hermione covered her mouth and laughed happily beside me.

"We'll come to visit you once we've settled down!" Hermione said to me before following the others away. "I really didn't expect you to be here. If I had known, I would have brought that book I bought during the vacation – "

"Merlin's ratty pants!" Ron Weasley exclaimed as if he was choking. "Hermione, this is the summer vacation, and this is the Quidditch World Cup!"

"Have you seen Harry and the others?" Ginny Weasley suddenly asked me. "Since you're here all the time, you'd know if anyone arrived, right?"

"I haven't seen Potter and Black." I replied without looking up as I continued to help Mr. Basil search through the parchment. "There are many gathering places, and this is just one of them."

By the time Hermione came to find me, we were almost done with our work. Seeing that Mr. Basil was really exhausted, I assured him that I would tidy up all this mess and told him to go back and rest first.

"This is my first time going to a wizard camping trip." Hermione rolled up the parchment scrolls with me and stuffed them into a bag. She looked really excited. "We went to get water earlier and met Harry, Taurus, and Neville! He said Mr. Potter invited him. Oh, and Seamus and Dean too! I felt like I couldn't take it all in! I just didn't have time to stop Ron before he told the boys that we'd run into you—I thought you might not want a lot of people to know. I'm sorry."

"Uh, it's okay. I'm just not used to sharing... my plans with others," I said, lowering my head. "If I really wanted to hide my whereabouts, I wouldn't be here giving directions and handing out tents."

She seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

"This is my first time at such an event too," I told her. "I wouldn't be here if Mum hadn't been transferred. I find it a bit noisy. There are people everywhere. By the way, did you say you went to get water just now? I want to go later. Mum will probably be busy until late tonight, and I want to make her some hot tea."

As we walked along, we talked in hushed voices about things we hadn't had a chance to say in our letters. It's strange. Before, when I saw Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown talking in low voices at a rapid pace, so that others couldn't hear clearly, I always thought such conversations were more of a distraction. But now that I have a friend like this myself, I only feel happy and can't wait to pour out all my words in one go.

"When we passed by here earlier, they hadn't let the peacocks out yet." As we passed by a huge tent that looked like a palace, Hermione looked at the two white peacocks leisurely shaking their tails at the entrance with a hint of doubt. "No wonder those Muggles get suspicious. This is a bit too much, isn't it—"

"That's just because you're so naive, Granger. You've only seen Muggles and the shabby things in the Weasley house." A slow voice came from behind the tent. A person lifted the front curtain and walked out. When he saw me, his eyes widened. "Iris?"

"You didn't tell me you'd be at the Quidditch World Cup, and you're with Granger—you're willing to come with that lot but not with me?" Draco frowned and looked at me. When a white peacock affectionately went to rub against his leg, he kicked it aside impatiently.

"I don't think Iris needs to report everything to you," Hermione said sharply. "Is that some kind of rule? Does she need your permission everywhere she goes?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm not talking to you, Granger. This isn't Hogwarts. Jumping around won't earn you any points."

"I only came here because of my mother's work," I realized I needed to separate the two of them quickly. "I didn't tell anyone. It was a last-minute decision anyway."

"Be polite, Draco. I've told you many times not to make a scene without any manners outside—especially since many of the people passing by here are high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic." A man with long blond hair lifted the curtain and walked out. He pressed his lips tightly together and held a thin rattan cane in his hand. When he saw me, the corner of his mouth twisted into a smile. "Miss Snape, it's been quite a while since I last saw you."

As a younger generation, I should at least offer a greeting at this moment. But before I could open my mouth, Lucius Malfoy turned his gaze to Hermione, yet he was still speaking to me. "It seems there's a reason why your father doesn't take you to our banquets anymore. You prefer to stay with these people—those who are more like you in terms of background. I can only say that you've not only inherited your mother's appearance, but also many other things... things that can't be changed."

"I'm proud of that, sir," I straightened up and looked into Mr. Malfoy's eyes that sparkled with undisguised malice. "Everything my mother has given me is the best gift I've ever received."

"Father—"

"Why don't you listen to me and go to the tent next door to take care of Astoria? She's not feeling well, and you should stay with her." Mr. Malfoy said coldly, interrupting Draco.

I picked up the water jug and turned away with Hermione. Mr. Malfoy's words continued to reach my ears from behind.

"You're not a child anymore, Draco. Your mother and I have thought that it's time to remind you that some relationships aren't worth maintaining—maybe they were once, but that doesn't mean they always will be."